To better enjoy this CD you should avoid headphones at all costs, as it shows its most beautiful shades by exploiting the natural reverberation of a room. That said, Enrico Wuttke (aka Flim) is a German pianist and composer who has released several albums, yet this is my very first encounter with him and unfortunately this happens in a sad occasion, as this music was composed in order for Wuttke to exorcise the pain deriving from the loss of his 8-year old daughter, Fanny. Needless to say, the atmosphere is far from happy. Picture a rarefied version of Roedelius’ gentle melodies cross-pollinated with Tim Story’s most melancholic expressions (if you never heard Story’s “Wheat and rust” you have missed something, by the way), the whole played with an array of keyboards, toy pianos and xylophones, additional assorted instrumentation and minimal processing, which gives the music a slightly sobbing quality – and I’m not riding Wuttke’s sorrow to affirm this, it’s really so. A few sparse piano droplets, shards of broken glass in a green field populated by frail-looking flowers. Grey afternoons and cloudy aggregates. An organ piece that’s as simple as closing the eyes in silence. These are a few of the visual and aural suggestions that I could recall while listening to this album, which elicits contrasting sensations but is certainly a deeply touching homage to an angel.